


YOU LOOK FAMILIAR? DO I KNOW YOU?

by WeeBeeGalaxy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Oneshot, Reincarnation AU, Tales Of The SMP, also i wrote this at 3am so pls im sorry if it's written bad, just feeding the egg blood u know, mentions of self harm, the egg mmm, we love some omlette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29418225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeBeeGalaxy/pseuds/WeeBeeGalaxy
Summary: Billiam said nothing as he walked up to the egg, sighing as he stood next to his butler who was already stood there in front of the glowing red mass. The man’s hand was covered in blood, a large wound cut down the middle of his palm and a pocket knife in the other. The blood slowly dripped onto the egg. The egg pulsed red light with each drop.It wasn’t enough.-Sir Billiam and his butler feed the egg.
Relationships: Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sir Billiam & Ranbutler
Comments: 26
Kudos: 554





	YOU LOOK FAMILIAR? DO I KNOW YOU?

**Author's Note:**

> ncdwnveunjd this is rlly short im sorry but after today's stream i NEEDED to get this idea out of my head

Sir Billiam the Third, a man of great honour, status, and wealth, drifted from one of his many mansion bedrooms and down his grand staircase in the early hours of the night. His feet almost felt weightless and his dark and gold-lined silk pyjamas shimmered in the moonlight that drifted through the windows. His face was twisted into a frown of regret and both his palms were heavily scarred from the nights he’d had to repeat this very task.

It was kind of like he was sleepwalking, but he was fully aware of where he was going and why. He’d usually be able to stop himself if he wanted to (not that he often would) but the egg’s pull had been getting stronger and stronger lately. He’d thought feeding it would help, he tried feeding it more and more often, but… it never seemed satisfied.

Never seemed enough.

The skin that covered Billiam’s body, especially his torso, arms, and up to his neck onto his face, had been decorated in red veins. They started around his eyes and his heart, to begin with… but now he was struggling to find an area where he hadn’t been infected. Whatever it was inside of him almost seemed to be acting as a magnet to that very special room hidden behind that painting.

He was getting sicker… if you could consider this a sickness. He supposed sickness wasn’t the right term. After all, ailments could be cured… This was more of a curse.

He closed his once blue eyes (oh how he missed his blue eyes) as he stepped into the hidden room and sighed when the egg finally seemed to let him out of his pull. He felt like he could breathe again. Of course, that that didn’t mean he could leave and go back to bed, however, it would just pull him back.

The egg was hungry.

It hungered for blood. Like always.

He’d had it for years now… perhaps nearly a decade now. But if he kept it fed, then it kept him rich, so the trade seemed far to him. What if it meant a few poor people went missing now and again? No one ever seemed to notice their disappearance.

At least, not enough to ever ask him about it.

Billiam said nothing as he walked up to the egg, sighing as he stood next to his butler who was already stood there in front of the glowing red mass. The man’s hand was covered in blood, a large wound cut down the middle of his palm and a pocket knife in the other. The blood slowly dripped onto the egg. The egg pulsed red light with each drop.

It wasn’t enough.

Wordlessly as always, his butler passed him the knife as Billiam sliced open his own palm.

To begin with, he would never use the same knife as the help for this. He didn’t want to contaminate his upper-class blood with some peasants. Who knew what kind of diseases they carried? But lately… it mattered less and less. He hadn’t carried. The egg demanded blood.

_ It wasn’t smart to keep it waiting. _

They said nothing. They never said anything. Billiam didn’t want to talk to the help and… well… his butler wasn’t allowed to talk.

They didn’t need to talk anyway. The voice in their head caused by the egg said enough that they didn’t need to clear the silence anyway.

Sometimes it promised Billiam more riches, more wealth… sometimes it threatened to destroy everything he had, everything he was, if he didn’t feed it more… The egg was all being, all-seeing. The egg could do anything. Billiam did not doubt the egg’s abilities.

He did not know what it said to his butler, but considering he had the same red marks snaking up the other’s arms under his rolled-up sleeves, Billiam knew it had to be something of similar importance.

After all… he would’ve just left otherwise, just like the rest of his staff.

It was just him and his butler now.

They stood there, still, for nearly twenty minutes, before the egg roared unhappily. More. It wanted more. Billiam and his butler shared a glance. Not as superior and staff, but as afraid equals. The egg  _ never  _ demanded more. The egg would sometimes demand longer, but never more.

“If you wait… I’m sure I can fetch you a poor person tomorrow, but-”

_ MORE. NOW. MORE. _

The egg demanded and the two men shared glances again. Billiam’s left hand continued to drip blood, as did the butler’s right, but they knew it wasn’t enough. They could stay up all night there together, as they have before, and it would still not be enough. Countless balls and masquerades and still it had never been enough.

Why did they ever think it would be enough?

_ Why did Billiam think it would ever be enough? _

“Sir…” Came a quiet voice to his left and Billiam glanced over again. The butler never referred to him. Usually, he’d snap at him, tell him off… but he was tired. “How many words?”

Billiam paused, not breaking eye contact with the butler. Both his eyes were the same blood red as his own. Their classes were so different, their upbringing probably not even similar, and yet the egg affected them both in the same way. Whispered in both of their ears and promised them things that they knew it could grant.

“Five. Five words.” Billiam replied, trying to seem like he was in control of the situation. Trying to seem like nothing had changed. That the dynamic hadn’t suddenly twisted between them just because the egg had said one thing. The egg said things all the time after all…

The egg made promises…

_ Not threats. _

“I don’t want to die.” 

Billiam looked away at that, his heart clenching in an almost uncomfortable way. His butler, who never was permitted to speak, said the words his brain was afraid to speak aloud. His brain didn’t want to…

He let out a laugh… it was almost hysterical. He shook his head as if he’d just thought of a good joke and turned back to his Butler once more.

“How many words?” It was Billiam’s turn to ask that this time and he got a small smile out of the scared feature’s of his butler. They both ignored the angry screams of the egg as it grew angrier. Hungrier.

“Two.”

Billiam raised an unimpressed eyebrow and the butler laughed as if they had known each other for years as friends rather than Billiam practically owning his butler. He supposed he should thank the egg for finally giving them a semblance of a relationship with one another.

“Alright. Five.”

The piglin man sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to organise his mind in a way to use all five words, and right. He wasn’t used to having a word restriction… but he supposed he should give it a try, right?

Their eyes met and their hands lowered, almost in sync with each other. The egg pulsed and screamed in anger but neither men flinched. They hadn’t flinched at the eggs screams in a long time. Years perhaps…

They’d been doing this for years.

“I am sorry.” Billiam said firmly before he smiled just a little. “Old friend.”

He took his left hand, gashed and bloody, and took his butler’s hand in his own. They held on to each other tightly, both desperate for comfort from the other as the egg demanded blood from them one last time.

They held hands so tight.

\--

Techno didn’t let go of Ranboo’s hand even after he forced the half enderman boy behind him, staring up at the large red…  _ thing _ in front of him with a furious glare as he snarled with his tusks. It didn’t help to watch as Bad tried to coach the boy up onto the so-called  _ egg.  _ He was not letting Ranboo go anywhere near that thing. He didn’t trust it.

Why should he? It’s vines spread just about everywhere except his own home! Besides… the voices in his head did not seem happy about its presence… and they were never against something that caused violence and disturbance.

The egg was different.

His left hand squeezed Ranboo’s right as the voice whispered in his ear. He pretended not to understand what it said.

_ YOU LOOK FAMILIAR? DO I KNOW YOU? _   
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank u, hoped u enjoyed this little idea that i had


End file.
